Witch Hunt (45 page)

The explosion shattered the glass in the overhead transom and knocked Leigh off her feet.

“Mommy!” Adrian crawled into her arms.

Leigh’s mind didn’t register the jagged piece of crystal that was embedded in her calf until Kamelia yanked it out. She struggled to her feet and followed the others into the dining room, where, through the terrace doors, they could see the burning wreckage of the garage.

“No!” Helena fumbled with the door latch. “Oh, gods, no!”

Cliff gently pushed her hand aside. “Stay here. I’ll go see.”

Leigh put a firm hand on Helena’s shoulder, and Cliff slipped out the door. Leigh could feel Helena’s grief and horror; the emotions were all too familiar. Leigh threw up an internal barrier; she needed to keep the emotions of everyone else at a distance if she was going to lead the survivors to safety.

The wind told Cliff what he needed to know; he had smelled burning flesh before. His mind reached out for thoughts, to see if there were any survivors, but the mind he touched was that of the enemy. And this time the enemy wasn’t gracious.

Got him in my sight. Good.

The bullet from the hunting rifle ripped through Cliff’s chest like a searing fireball and threw him to the ground. Blood filled his lungs.

“Into your hands I commend my spirit,” he managed to whisper. But he didn’t will himself into the waiting arms of the Father God. It was the Virgin Mother who appeared to accept his sacrifice.

Leigh watched in shock and horror as Cliff fell. The men were dead. Now it was down to the women and children, and Leigh knew full well that the enemy would show no mercy.

“Do we have guns?” she asked.

Everyone was too stunned to reply.

“Guns! Now!”

That got their attention.

“Yeah, Jason packed all the hunting stuff,” Melanie said.

“Find it.” Leigh drew the curtains across the terrace doors and urged everyone on ahead of her into the parlor.

Melanie used the fireplace poker to open the steamer trunk, which was full of firearms and ammunition.

“Does anyone know how to load these things?” Leigh asked.

Melanie nodded. “I hunted with Dad and … and Jason.”

“Good, then you load them. I’m sure the rest of us can figure out how to squeeze triggers.”

“I don’t know if I can help.” Glynis cradled her left arm. “My arm is numb.”

“Kammi,” Leigh said. It was an order.

Kamelia made Glynis sit down and examined her, then looked at Leigh with a puzzled expression. “I think her arm’s okay, but there’s something funny about her heart.”

They’re going to kill all of us
… “One way or another,” Leigh muttered. “Just take it easy, Glynis.”

Melanie handed out the guns. “I’ve turned off the safety on all of them so it’ll be easier for you. Aiming isn’t so important with the shotguns; just point and fire.” She gave the shotguns to Kamelia and Vivian. “There’s a .22 for Adrian,” she handed him the small handgun. “Don’t touch the trigger until you’re ready to fire for real,” she told him. “The deer rifles will be good for us.” She gave Leigh and Helena the .308’s and kept the .243 for herself.

Leigh picked up the phone to call the police, but the line was dead. She pulled her cell phone from her purse, but couldn’t get a signal; something was jamming it.

It crossed her mind that the attack was well planned.

“Cody,” she whispered.

Cody rendezvoused with the approaching crowd. His people had no difficulty stirring up the locals, especially when news of the Whittaker murder broke. Cody himself hadn’t been surprised by the news; he’d known all along that he was right about the Hawthornes.

Nate and Junkman lost themselves in the crowd.

When they came to the north gate of the manor, they stormed it, and, like a giant wave of self-righteousness flattening everything that resisted, the crowd swarmed onto the grounds. In an orgy of destruction, the people trampled flowerbeds and toppled statues; the fallen gods and goddesses were attacked with rocks and tire irons for good measure.

As they surged toward the mansion, other guns besides those belonging to Nate and Junkman were drawn.

“Adrian, tell me quickly if any of our men are still alive.”

Leigh had never asked anything like this of her son, and he blinked for a moment with confusion. Then he closed his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “I can see Frank hiding in Marek’s truck.”

“Can your mind talk to his?” Leigh asked.

Adrian hesitated, then nodded.

“Tell him to get ready. On your order, he’s to drive the truck up to the kitchen door.”

Adrian, his eyes still closed, scrunched his forehead with effort. Then he looked at Leigh. “Okey-doke.”

“Good boy.” She peeked out the front curtains at the approaching crowd. “I’ve got a plan that might work. If it doesn’t, do whatever it takes to survive.
Whatever
it takes.” She took the fireplace poker and knocked small panes of glass from the front window, “I want them to see lots of deterrent; everybody get down low, stick your guns through the window, and point the barrels at them.” She held Adrian back. “Not you, honey. You’ve got to stand right inside the door and wait for my signal to summon Frank. Melanie, I want you to shoot at the ground ahead of them; try to stop their approach.”

Melanie aimed the rifle, and her bullet found its mark. The crowd stopped and fell silent.

“Now, cover me,” Leigh said. Her gun firmly grasped in her hands, she walked through the foyer and out the front door.

She was greeted by close to a hundred people. They were an even mixture of men and women, a respectable-looking cross-section of Montvue society. Many were couples who stood hand in hand, facing their enemy together,
for better or worse,
‘til death do us part
, Leigh thought with a touch of irony. She noted that they were all adults; there was no chance of their children getting hurt. Only hers were expendable, it seemed. They stood in a large semicircle behind Cody, who was about twenty feet from the foot of the porch steps. For a moment, as she stared into the faces of the enraged intruders, she felt their blood lust. Fear threatened to overcome her, but she said a silent prayer to the Goddess whom she had met the night of her initiation, and she felt an uncanny peace settle upon her.

“There’s been enough death,” she said. “There’s still time to turn this around and stop the madness.”

Cody was momentarily startled. He had expected them to attack with more hexes, not defend themselves with mortal weapons.
Goddamn insurgents are clever bastards
. He shook his head to clear the conflicting images that assaulted him. “The Bible says ‘thou shalt not suffer a witch to live!’” he shouted.

“The Bible also says that you should not judge or condemn. And I seem to remember something about loving your enemies,” Leigh said.

Clever. Yes, they’re clever
. “What do you know about love, you witch bitch?”

“More than you.”

“Your people put my wife into a coma!”

“And your people killed the only ones who could have reversed it,” Leigh told him. There was a soft light beginning to fill the air around her. “See how your righteous anger can backfire, Preacher?”

Melanie, scanning the crowd through the scope of her rifle, saw a man on the far edge of the crowd throw a rifle to his shoulder and aim it at Leigh. Without hesitation, Melanie pulled the trigger, and the shot rang out.